Page 10 of Blood Marked

Not a dream. Not some ritual fantasy fueled by old shifter folklore. It was real—burned into her skin, her blood. Irrevocable. Binding.

Her eyes opened.

The room was dimly lit, heavy curtains drawn across narrow windows. A small table near the fireplace held untouched food, a pitcher of something herbal. Everything was neat, controlled, like the space had been curated for someone about to break. Or someone who already had.

She sat up slowly, the fur-lined blanket slipping from her shoulders.

Beneath the thin shift they'd given her to sleep in, the skin over her heart felt tight, raw. Her fingers hovered over it but didn’t touch.

His mark. Their bond. Not by choice.

They’d made her his. In a way that was more than what she had initially agreed to. In front of a whole damn court. Her blood had bled into their sacred stone, and now, to them, she was no longer Selene Morwen. She wasKael Fenrir’s bonded mate.

Property.

The thought sent a sick heat crawling down her spine.

You’re the key to peace,her father had said.

He had to have known.

He knew their beliefs. Knew what the stone could do—had done. And he’d let her go like a lamb on a leash, trusting that she’d play her part well enough not to get torn apart.

“Damn them,” she whispered, voice raw.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket, squeezing until her knuckles turned white.

Shefelthim. Even now. Not with words or thoughts, nothing as clear as that. But he waspresentin her skin. A second heartbeat. A static hum at the back of her mind. There were moments it flared—like when she was dreaming, or half-asleep. She could feel his agitation, the sharp edge of his awareness. It bled into her without permission.

She wanted it gone.

The door creaked.

Selene shot upright.

But it was just one of the guards—massive, silent, his armor etched with the sigil of House Fenrir. He didn’t look at her. Just nodded once and stepped aside as a servant entered behind him.

The girl was barely older than Selene, dark-haired with nervous fingers.

“I—uh—was sent to help you dress. For the… audience.”

Selene raised a brow. “Audience?”

The girl nodded. “You’re to be presented to the court today. As the bonded of the heir.”

The words hit like a slap.

“Of course,” Selene muttered, sliding off the bed with controlled precision. “Can’t waste a fresh spectacle.”

The servant moved efficiently, laying out garments—layers of silver and dark crimson silk. Nothing sheer or suggestive, but it still felt like a costume.A coronation for a crown she never wanted.

As the girl helped braid her hair, Selene’s mind drifted.

Kael.

He’d come to her chamber last night.

No guards. No witnesses. Just him.

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